The fifteenth floor of Parker Industries was a masterclass in sleek, utopian corporate design. Natural sunlight flooded through massive glass skylights, illuminating lush indoor terrariums and open-concept workspaces.
As Gwen and Cindy slipped out of the stairwell in their stolen white lab coats, they immediately ducked behind a frosted glass partition.
A man was walking down the corridor, aggressively gesturing with both hands as if conducting an invisible orchestra. He wore a sharp, theatrical turtleneck and a perfectly trimmed goatee.
"Yes! Exactly!" Quentin Beck laughed, clapping his hands together as he spoke to a bewildered executive assistant. "With Parker Industries funding the CGI rendering farm, my new film will redefine the visual medium! I'm directing, writing, and starring in it! It'll be a masterpiece!"
Beck spun on his heel and marched toward the elevators, practically radiating joy.
Gwen watched him go, her brow furrowing. "Wasn't that Mysterio?"
"Yeah," Cindy muttered, her dark eyes tracking the illusionist until the elevator doors closed. "Shocker gets a high-paying acoustics lab. Rhino gets a stable security job. Mysterio gets his blockbuster movie deal. In Peter's ideal world, he didn't just lock up his enemies. He gave them exactly what they always wanted so they'd stop hurting people."
Cindy turned away from the elevators and marched straight toward a set of heavy, double oak doors at the end of the hall. A silver plaque read: PETER PARKER - CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER. Cindy didn't bother knocking. She grabbed the brass handle, applied a fraction of her superhuman strength, and shoved the heavy doors open with a sharp crack.
The CEO's office was massive, featuring floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking, panoramic view of a peaceful Manhattan skyline.
It was also completely empty.
"I can feel him," Cindy said, pressing two fingers against her temple. Her jaw tightened in frustration. "My Silk-Sense is screaming. He is standing right here in this room. But he isn't."
Gwen ignored the metaphysical headache and walked straight over to the massive mahogany desk. She leaned over, inspecting the personal items scattered across the pristine blotter. There was a framed photograph of Peter, Uncle Ben, and Aunt May, all of them laughing over a birthday cake. Next to it sat a picture of Peter with his arms slung around Harry and Cho, holding a first-place robotics trophy.
Gwen tapped her fingernail against the polished wood. She scanned the rest of the desk. Nothing else.
"Wow. Not a single picture of me," Gwen muttered, crossing her arms defensively. "Or you, for that matter. I guess the billionaire tech-mogul version of Peter has absolutely zero plans to date."
Cindy walked over, glancing at the frames. "Does he not like girls?"
"He's straight, Moon," Gwen sighed, rolling her eyes behind her mask. "I've literally seen the Anne Hathaway posters in his closet. I think he just... doesn't have the time to think about dating. He's always too busy bleeding in an alleyway somewhere." She paused, her voice dropping a fraction of an octave. "Or he just doesn't know who to choose."
Cindy completely ignored the subtle jab. She leaned over the desk, tapping the trackpad of Peter's sleek, silver laptop. The screen woke up, displaying an open digital newspaper.
Cindy's eyes scanned the headlines. She pointed at a small sidebar article.
DISGRACED PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR MAC GARGAN SENTENCED TO DEATH FOR BRUTAL EXTORTION MURDERS. Gwen leaned in, reading over Cindy's shoulder. Her eyes drifted down to an older, archived obituary pinned to the desktop.
QUEENS TEENAGER CARL KING KILLED IN TRAGIC HIT-AND-RUN ACCIDENT.
Gwen blinked, a cold chill running down her arms. "Unbelievable. He redeemed Rhino and the Shocker, but he actively dreams about Mac Gargan and Carl King dying? He really hates Carl that much?"
"He has a good reason," Cindy said, her voice dropping into a flat, icy monotone. "Didn't he tell you what happened?"
Gwen frowned. "Tell me what? That Carl disappeared?"
"Carl King didn't just disappear," Cindy said, turning to face Gwen fully. "Carl stole the irradiated spider that bit Peter. He swallowed it whole. It mutated him. He dissolved into a sentient colony of thousands of spiders wearing a human skin suit. He ate several innocent people including his own mother, and he was actively hunting Peter to consume him and steal his life."
Gwen took a step back, her stomach violently twisting. The sterile, air-conditioned air of the office suddenly felt suffocating. "...I didn't know any of that."
She wasn't angry that Peter had kept a secret. She was horrified by the sheer trauma he was quietly carrying around in his head. Carl King had been their classmate. He had sat three desks away from them in homeroom.
"If it makes you feel any better," Cindy added coldly, "Carl didn't get Peter. I crushed his primary brain-spider under my boot. I killed him."
Silence hung heavy in the massive office. Gwen stared at Cindy, seeing the brutal, uncompromising edge in the other girl's eyes. Before Gwen could formulate a response, the heavy thud of footsteps echoed out in the carpeted hallway.
Someone was coming.
Gwen didn't hesitate. She scrambled backward, threw open the massive glass window, and vaulted outside, sticking her black-gloved hands to the exterior brickwork. Cindy dropped into a low crouch, springing upward and pressing her back completely flat against the ceiling tiles above the doorway.
The oak doors swung open.
A short, portly, middle-aged man walked into the office. He wore a crisp tweed vest and thick, wire-rimmed glasses. He carried a stack of manila folders under one arm.
"Strange," the man muttered to himself, adjusting his glasses as he looked around the empty room. "Mr. Parker's schedule is completely clear, but the door is wide open."
Hanging upside down outside the window, Gwen squinted. She had absolutely no idea who this guy was. Probably just an accountant or another reformed C-list villain.
But inside Gwen's mind, the symbiote violently surged.
[DOCTOR OTTO OCTAVIUS,] Venom snarled, the mental projection dripping with pure, unadulterated venom. [EVIL SCIENTIST. SYMBIOTE RESEARCHER. A PURE, UNREDEEMABLE BASTARD.]
Gwen slipped silently back through the open window, her black boots hitting the carpet without a sound. She stood right behind the portly scientist.
"Hi there," Gwen said brightly.
Otto shrieked. He dropped his manila folders, papers scattering across the rug, and spun around, clutching his chest. "Good heavens! Where—where did you come from? Are you a new corporate superhero?"
"Uh, sure. We're looking for Spider-Man," Gwen said, gesturing vaguely around the room. "We tracked his location directly to this office, Doctor. But we can't find him. It's like he's standing right here, but he's completely invisible."
Otto took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart. He bent down to pick up his papers. "Alright, miss. If you are experiencing a localized cloaking anomaly, follow me to my—OH MY GOODNESS!"
Cindy dropped silently from the ceiling, landing in a perfect crouch right beside Otto's shiny leather shoes.
Otto yelped again, stumbling backward into a potted fern. He grabbed his chest, his face turning a blotchy red. "Do you people not know how to use a door?!"
Ten minutes later, still rubbing his chest to ward off a theoretical heart attack, Dr. Octavius led the two Spider-Women down three flights of stairs into a massive, state-of-the-art physics laboratory.
Gwen looked around at the humming server racks, the gleaming particle accelerators, and the complex holographic displays. She leaned close to Cindy's ear.
"Are you sure this is just a pocket dimension built out of dreams?" Gwen whispered. "Because this place is ridiculously detailed. My subconscious could barely render a working toaster, let alone a fully functional quantum physics lab."
"That's what the golden alien said," Cindy whispered back, keeping her eyes fixed on Otto.
Otto booted up a massive terminal, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He glanced back at Cindy.
"I have run the theoretical calculations based on the biological parameters you described, Miss Silk," Otto stated, adjusting his glasses. "If you possess a localized, multi-dimensional tracking sense tethered to Spider-Man's specific genetic frequency, and you register him in this exact spatial coordinate... then he is not utilizing quantum superposition. If he were simply phased, you would still be able to see the ambient light refracting around his mass."
"But we can't see him, Doc," Gwen said, leaning against a lab bench. "And we can't touch him."
"Exactly," Otto pointed a stubby finger at the ceiling. "Your unique perception transcends physical space. It pierces the barriers of the multiverse. Therefore, your radar is flawless. Spider-Man is undeniably standing in that office."
Otto turned around, his expression turning incredibly grave. "However, your perception only accounts for the three dimensions of physical space. It does not account for the fourth dimension. Time."
Cindy stood up completely straight. The blood drained from her face.
"If he is occupying the exact same spatial coordinates, but remains entirely untouchable and invisible," Otto concluded, tapping his temple, "then he is out of phase with our current temporal reality. He is existing in a different timeline altogether. You are sensing the ghost of Spider-Man from the future... or the past."
Gwen and Cindy locked eyes. The realization hit them simultaneously, cold and terrifying.
Peter wasn't enjoying a perfect, peaceful dream world. He was currently fighting Kang the Conqueror across the timestream.